


What's Left Unsaid (Is Finally Said)

by A_Place_To_Roam



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angel Castiel (Supernatural), Because they need to talk, Castiel Has Patience (Supernatural), Castiel Learns to be Human (Supernatural), Castiel and Dean Winchester Have a Profound Bond, Castiel in Heaven (Supernatural), Castiel is Jack Kline's Parent, Castiel's Angelic Grace (Supernatural), Dean Winchester Has PTSD, Dean Winchester Has Self-Worth Issues, Dean Winchester Needs to Remove Head From Ass, Dean Winchester Says "I Love You", Dean Winchester is Bad at Feelings, Dialogue Heavy, Fishing, I miss Castiel, M/M, Ruler of Heaven Castiel (Supernatural), So proud of him, but he's doing much better, like REALLY need to talk
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-25
Updated: 2020-11-25
Packaged: 2021-03-09 19:55:59
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,363
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27711674
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/A_Place_To_Roam/pseuds/A_Place_To_Roam
Summary: “To getting used to peace,” Castiel toasts softly, remembering the drink they had shared in the bunker after they made it out of purgatory for the second time. Dean’s smile widens and there’s something in his eyes that Castiel can’t quite put his finger on. It’s so very similar to the joy Dean once held the night he dragged Castiel to a brothel and they’d been kicked out—except it was more. Perhaps this was what Dean looked like happy before even hell. Castiel can’t stop staring. He did that; he made Dean smile like he’d never been to hell, never died, never fought God.-Author here! I disliked the ending of Supernatural, especially Castiel's "return", but I'm trying to accept it. This is what I think takes place before, during, and after 15x20 to our Dear Castiel and how he's reunited with Dean. Both of them waited so long because they have self-worth issues and anxiety.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Comments: 5
Kudos: 76





	What's Left Unsaid (Is Finally Said)

**Author's Note:**

> This is very dialogue-heavy because Castiel and Dean need to talk. I'd apologize in advance, but I'm really not that sorry. I love them, but they are idiots.

Not existing in one moment and then suddenly existing is one of the oddest sensations one can feel—though many have never experienced this. It is not the same as coming back from the dead, although that is what had happened too. The fact is, Castiel’s physical body was taken along with him into the Empty, so it should no longer exist. 

And now it did exist; he’s in it. The air around him has been pushed aside forcefully to accommodate the sudden mass intruding. The need to apologize to his surroundings arises and he quickly realizes it’s the first emotion he’s felt coming back: guilt. That should probably be symbolic, but he doesn’t have the energy to look into it.

Castiel’s body is exactly as it had been, same height and weight, even the trench coat. He was completely intact. His grace was still a small thrum in his chest, depleted from a once pounding force that encompassed him completely. That small thrum pulsed pleasantly and it was that that made Castiel recognize where he is. 

Heaven is very different. He stands on a dirt road, instead of a sterile white hallway. His angelic sense of direction in Heaven tells him he should be surrounded by polished white walls and white light, but there is a sun beaming down with a pleasant warmth tickling his skin and open land as far as the eye can see. 

Castiel’s grace guides him to turn around, strumming to a beat he’s only ever felt in the presence of God—Chuck. There is panic in his chest, a human feeling he’s grown accustomed to, as he turns to face Chuck. Perhaps they hadn’t won, and there was going to be some punishment for what he’d done. Had being doomed to staying in the empty for eternity for loving Dean Winchester not been enough?

What Castiel doesn’t pick up on is the slight difference in the swishing of his grace, another familiar thrumming of parental origin.

Standing there on the dirt road with him is not Chuck, but his son, Jack. 

Against any and all judgment, Castiel takes the three steps between them to press the new God to his chest. One would have been weary touching God with such force, Dean certainly would have, but Castiel has always been more driven by his emotions. Jack reciprocates, wrapping his arms around Castiel just as tightly. 

“We did it,” Jack says as they pull away. The smile they share is far more than enough. “I’m God, now, but I can’t do this without some guidance. I am only three.”

“Of course, Jack. Though you know I’m going to have to ask, how did you get me out of the empty?”

Jack smirks, a new expression Castiel isn’t sure he’s seen before, but it looks awfully similar to Dean’s, and says, “Simple. The Empty was already weak from when I… exploded, and so I propositioned it: I get you back and put them to sleep, or I wake every angel and demon up so the Empty will never even hope to sleep again.”

“You threatened a cosmic entity?” 

“Propositioned.”

Castiel takes a long look around before speaking, “you’ve done so well already.”

“Right. Well, this is the part I need help with. I don’t trust anyone else to run this place as it should. Heaven was so closed off and lonely, but having an open-world would be much too complicated and there are not enough angels to keep the place running. Instead, everything is connected to closely placed rooms.”

Jack continues to explain how the new heaven is connected. The rooms are not separated by visible walls, but only walls angels can feel. Human souls don’t register them. They take a walk as Jack shows a few examples of the rooms. Heaven is laid out much like America, and many rooms have been erased as people are put together. With fewer rooms comes more power to keep heaven running despite the lack of angels. There are no cities, but there are some closely laid houses that resemble a suburb. 

An angel or two stop by to talk to Jack, acknowledging Castiel with polite fear. 

“They’re nervous. They have no one permanent to lead them,” Jack explains with that voice every parent knows. Jack is gearing up to ask him something, and Castiel already knows his answer. 

“Jack, I appreciate the offer, but you know my place is beside the Winchesters.”

“Right, I know. But that’s the thing, Cas. The Empty would have a much easier time getting to Earth than it would Heaven once it’s healed, and I’m not so sure it’s going to let you go. It’s got a weird obsession with you.”

“So I have to stay here,” Castiel settles. 

“No, I won’t be controlling anyone’s choices, but I don’t want to lose you again. The Winchesters will be here soon anyway,” Jack says softly. Castiel smiles proudly. His son truly will be the best God. 

“I’ll stay, Jack. Go on ahead.” Truthfully, Castiel doesn’t think he’s ready to see Dean again.

“You don’t want to see how Sam and Dean are doing now?” Jack asks curiously.

Castiel thinks about that for a moment.

“No, I’ll ask when they get here.” 

Jack steps closer and rests a hand on Castiel’s shoulder, “Good. I’ve still got a lot of work to do, but here.” Light floods the surrounding area and the thrumming of Castiel’s grace grows in size and strength. His once flayed, damaged wings make sharp cracking noises as the metaphysical bone breaks and resets itself. Even his flight feathers grow back in. There is something new in his grace, and it isn’t long before he knows it’s the power of creation. 

Jack leaves before Castiel can decide whether to thank Jack or reprimand him. 

A small box is left where Jack had stood. Opening it, Castiel is faced with several vials of swishing blue light. A note clarifies that each vial is for the other angels when Castiel inevitably asks them to help him repair heaven. “ _Whether you give it to them even if they decide to leave is up to you, or you can leave it to them. I’ve meddled enough_ ,” Jack wrote. Pride swells in Castiel’s chest and he’s thankful his newly replenished grace hasn’t taken the human in him. It feels more like an extension. As if Castiel was human first, and then given his grace. 

Castiel sets to work immediately. Heaven has a lot of improvements to be made and families to be reunited. First order of business was talking to the other angels. He did as Jack said, giving them the option of leaving if they wished. To Castiel’s surprise, none of them wished to leave Heaven. Every vial of grace was used. 

It seemed talking to each angel individually was the right thing to do. He could spend the time explaining himself, his actions, and now his intentions. A few were skeptical. He reassured them that he plans on earning their trust back, and not demanding their respect. He told them he was going to do this right. 

The talk with Naomi was odd. Seeing her made Castiel’s chest constrict in a way that would have stopped him from breathing. It seems his body may have PTSD, but as an angel, he does not. It's far too complex for anyone to figure out considering Castiel is an anomaly. Anyhow, Naomi chose to stay and she blindly gave her trust to Castiel, although he told her he still cannot trust her. There was an implicit apology in it. 

With the angels to assist, Castiel began the process of making others aware they are in heaven, and that they can now see their families. Many had questions that he answered with, “There has been a change in leadership. We want everyone to make their own choices.” Some seemed content with that, others did not. Either way, Castiel didn’t say much more. 

Castiel made sure he personally handled those closest with the Winchesters—starting with Bobby. It seemed Jack was unsure of what should be done with Heaven’s prison. Each cell was designed to suit the person it held: Bobby’s had his rocking chair and beer. 

Bobby looked up from the newspaper he held, only to put it down and stand as Castiel came into view. With a snap of his fingers, the cell bars were gone. He didn’t expect to be pulled into a hug by the shorter man. It was nice and Castiel knew this conversation would be easy. 

“There’s been a change in leadership,” Castiel began. He told Jack’s story, Dean’s story, Sam’s story, and finally his own. 

“I knew you two idjits would get all that staring sorted out,” Bobby smiled.

“I’m afraid it’s unrequited,” Castiel says with the same peace he had when he’d told Dean. 

“Ah, so Dean hasn’t pulled his head out of his ass.”

Castiel didn’t comment on that, he only placed a hand on Bobby’s shoulder and flew them to Bobby’s new heaven. It was fitting he shared a heaven with Ellen at the roadhouse. The two were happy to see each other, and Ellen gave him a hug. Castiel quickly realized Jo wasn’t there while Ash was in the back and he snapped her there. 

“Hey, Cas,” Bobby stopped him before he made his exit. “You bring Dean here first, got it?”

“Of course.”

Castiel made sure to align Dean’s soul right outside the roadhouse. Sam’s soul was pre-set to wherever Dean was, but if Sam passed before Dean, he would end up at the roadhouse too. He’d have to work on entry alignments next. Those would need some algorithm work. 

Castiel visited Mary next, to which he solemnly apologized to her. Instead of anger, Mary pulled him into a tight hug and thanked him for all he’s done since. 

The hugging was becoming a trend, and with the next person he moved, he was hoping this was the outlier. 

John Winchester stood just a few feet away, and with a quiet, “Mary,” Castiel was completely forgotten. Castiel thanked their love for one another that John didn’t so much as look at him. As much as he tried to see the good in him, Castiel couldn’t look past the self-hatred John Winchester instilled into Dean, nor the codependency he made Sam and Dean establish. He can let Mary explain everything. 

Castiel finds meeting Missouri Moseley another monumental time. He needs not to explain himself, and Missouri smiles at him like she knows every part of him. 

“Cas, I think you should know somethin’,” Missouri said with a kind smile. Castiel frowned but allowed Missouri to touch the pads of her fingers to his temples. 

The images that flashed before him were not of Missouri’s mind, though they were her memories. Instead, Castiel saw Dean and felt the ripping pain inside him with the death of Castiel. When Missouri pulled her hands away, Castiel was left confused. She quickly clarified, “Dean Winchester’s grieving for you was not brotherly, Castiel. You tell that boy to get his head out of his ass, or you send him my way and I’ll do it. I’m tearing him a new one either way for not saying anything during that confession of yours.”

This was not what Castiel expected, but in hindsight, he might have at least expected the psychic to tell him something he hadn’t known. The hug was nice.

“You let my Patience and James choose to see me, you hear?”

“Of course,” Castiel promises.

The work Castiel has to do is extensive but welcomed. The angels help and soon every soul in heaven is aware and the heavens are now connected. Naomi openly opposed such an open door policy, worried about too much chaos and intermingling of different time periods, but the other angels expressed their joy in it, citing that seeing families reunited was perspective-changing. 

Castiel begins planning on different jobs for each angel, consulting them beforehand on their job in heaven before and how they liked it. Once he presented his idea, the angels proposed only a few changes and it was set into motion. 

The day finally came that Dean Winchester came to heaven. 

Castiel personally sought to make sure Dean’s soul made it to the roadhouse. His soul shines just as bright as it always has, and Castiel cries as he places it a few feet from Bobby. There is a brighter spot on Dean’s soul that Castiel can fully read. The Enochian he had carved into Dean’s soul, laying claim for heaven, was still there. With a gentle caress, Castiel changed the words to lay claim for free will. Like in hell, Dean wouldn’t remember Castiel holding him, but Dean’s soul seemed to remember Castiel’s grace and held on just as tightly. 

Castiel wept as he flew away, giving Bobby the time to catch Dean up on heaven’s remodeling. He catches Bobby saying, “Well, Cas helped,” but took off before he could see Dean’s reaction to the news. 

It was then Castiel made the decision to wait for Dean to call out to him. The righteous man was loved by many, and so he would let Dean be to catch up with everyone else. And if Dean never calls out to him, he’ll be content with it. Or so he tells himself.

From Castiel’s understanding, friendships are often very awkward when one has romantic feelings for another and the other does not. He’s seen it in many movies, and besides the Winchester’s and the time he spent as a human, Castiel learned many social rules from movies and television. In some movies, friendships were even ruined. It was the main reason Castiel never said a word to Dean before. Although he had told Dean he loved him while he was dying before. Turns out telling everyone he loved them after made Dean misunderstand what he’d meant. 

Though no one can really blame Castiel for confessing before the empty took him. He’d truly believed he was never coming back, so no awkwardness would arise. He’d do anything to keep Dean from being uncomfortable now that they’re free from Chuck. 

So if Dean never reaches out to him, Castiel will stay away. And on the off chance that Dean does want to see him, Castiel will assure him that he expects nothing and hopes things don’t change. 

Thankfully, Castiel’s new job as the boss is rather time-consuming. A lot of heaven’s “wiring” needs to be fixed to suit the new place. It’s easy for him to push down his anxiety and fill it with work.

The creation Jack had gifted Castiel comes in handy with building upon what Jack had set up. The place is beautiful, or so the humans tell him as they arrive. Castiel gives them a humble thank you and sends them on their way to their family—blood or chosen.

Castiel is in the middle of a meeting with the other angels, talking about how the humans are liking the change and what feedback they’ve received when a prayer comes through. 

Castiel has some followers on Earth for reasons unbeknownst to him, so he gets a few prayers here and there. With his free will and wings back, he answers some of them. An elderly woman, who has prayed to him since she was a girl, prays to him about her grandson whose cancer is worsening. A religious father calls out to him every morning, praying for new opportunities to help his family. Castiel pays close attention to those two. He’s grown fond of them and their selflessness. 

The prayer that comes through is neither the elderly woman nor the religious father, but the gruff voice belonging to a man he’d fallen in love with. 

“ _Hope you have your ears on, Cas. I know you’re probably busy, but I was wondering if you’d want to come fishing with me sometime. Eileen is here now, so Sam is having his own reunion time. Not that you're a second choice, just, uh._ ” There’s a long pause and Castiel assumes Dean has stopped praying. He tries to pay attention to the rest of the meeting. To no avail, Castiel can’t contain his excitement. Dean’s voice soon cuts back in, “ _Eileen kind of tore me a new one when she found out you’re here and I still haven’t said anything. Told me to get my head out of my ass and the sand._ ”

“ _So maybe when you have an hour or two, pop in and I’ll teach you to fish?_ ”

Castiel ends the meeting as soon as he can, agreeing to things he hardly listens to. Naomi shoots him an odd look, but the other angels don’t seem to notice his eagerness to get out of there. 

As soon as the last angel leaves to go back to their work, Castiel is flinging himself in Dean’s direction. He finds him at the same dock Castiel has intruded his psyche to talk to him at before. Dean doesn’t notice him at first, but there is a second lawn chair set up beside him with a green cooler between. 

“Hello, Dean,” Castiel says in hopes not to startle the ex-hunter. It’s a swing and miss—Dean jumps and turns with hunter instincts. His shoulders relax just as quickly when he sees it’s just Castiel. 

“Cas!” Dean stands. His pole is forgotten behind him as he wraps his arms around the angel. Castiel tenses as he returns the hug, not allowing himself to fully accept the affection. Perhaps they will just pretend Castiel had never said anything. He’s not sure he can do that very well. “How have you been, man?”

Right, small talk. That’s something Castiel can do. 

“I’ve been busy. Heaven is under a complete remodel and I'm the only angel able to ‘rewire’ everything,” Castiel explains, his hands coming up to do air quotes. There is a word in Enochian for the way Heaven is thread together, but it doesn’t translate to English. 

“Oh, so you probably can’t stay long?” Dean asks as his eyes flicker over to the extra seat. Now that Castiel is looking, he sees the extra pole laying beside the chair meant for him.

With a smile, Castiel says, “No. I always have time for you.”

He means to add, “and Sam, and Jack,” and everyone else in their family, but he can’t seem to get that out. His words seem to make Dean tense up and Castiel regrets coming. He’s been here less than five minutes and he’s already made Dean uncomfortable.

“Good. That’s good,” Dean coughs. 

“I’m sorry I’ve made you uncomfortable.”

“No, no it’s just-“

“Dean, I need you to know I don’t expect anything from you after what I’d told you. I meant it when I said just being is enough. I’m sorry if I’ve made things-”

It’s Dean’s turn to interrupt when he says, “Stop apologizing, Cas.” He puts a hand on his shoulder and drags him toward the seats. “We’ll talk about it, I promise. I just need a little time.”

Castiel, ever the patient, nods with a smile. He isn’t sure he wants to hear Dean reject him right now anyway. It’s enough just being with him. 

Dean shows Castiel how to bait a hook, explaining the different baits and which type of fish like which type of bait. “This lake has a lot of basses, so either these pink ones or the silver ones. They look more like the crawfish Bass eat.” 

It turns out Castiel can’t toss a line, and Dean has a heyday with it. They spend a long time just casting their lines over and over.

“C’mon, with your powered-up mojo I’m sure you could just snap and get it out there,” Dean laughs as he elbows Castiel’s ribs. 

“Some of us enjoy learning to do things without ‘mojoing’ it,” Castiel snaps. He’s not really that upset, but his grumpiness makes Dean laugh more. It also _hadn’t_ occurred to him that he could just make the line go out there without tossing it himself. After weeks of using his new powers, one would think it would be second nature to do it that way. 

Maybe being around Dean makes him just a little more human. 

Finally, Castiel tosses a successful line out and Dean gives a hearty cheer, digging into the cooler for two beers. There’s a comment thrown into the wind about drinking as an angel. Dean waves a dismissive hand. They drop it. 

Dean shows him how to set up the pole along with his chair so if the line starts moving, he has time to grab it. Then they just sit and watch the waves travel. It’s peaceful, and Castiel can’t help but feel he’s invading Dean’s space once again. The need to fly away grows with every passing moment to the point that Dean takes notice of Castiel’s restlessness.

“You have to go?” Dean guesses. 

“No.”

“Oh. Do you _want_ to leave?” There’s a hint of insecurity in Dean’s voice. 

“No.” Pause. “I feel my presence may be bothersome.”

Dean looks away from the lake to him with an incredulous expression. He assures, “No, man. You’re my best friend. I want you here.”

“You once told me fishing was something you did to ‘zone out’ and forget about things. You don’t seem to be doing that with me here,” Castiel explains. 

“I wanted to come here for a different reason, Cas. I’ve got something I want to say, but I’m too chickenshit to say it. The lake helps.” Castiel tilts his head at the word chickenshit. He’s never heard that word, and he can only really assume it’s an expression. Being called a chicken means one is cowardly, Castiel knows, so perhaps this is the same. 

“You don’t have to say anything.”

“Actually, I do. ‘Cause you left before I could say my piece and that’s bull.”

  
“My moment of true happiness would have been ruined had you rejected me on the spot. I couldn’t risk it.”

“Who said anything about rejection?” Dean quipped. It felt like someone just poured a bucket of cold water on his head. Castiel doesn’t dare speak, afraid he’s got something wrong with what Dean is saying. “You’re thinking pretty loud there, Cas.”

Castiel tears his eyes away from Dean, admitting, “I don’t understand.” A laugh comes from Dean, but it isn’t one of malice. 

“I didn’t remember you pulling me out of hell, but you told me about it once. You said I fought you the whole way, and it almost made you drop me when you were already dodging demon after demon,” Dean recalls. “You brought me to Bobby, didn’t you?”

Castiel doesn’t have to answer. His awkward silence has always meant yes. 

“I remember it now—both times. I remember when you pulled me out of hell, and how I begged to stay. I remember when you brought me to Bobby and how I begged you to stay. Why didn’t you?”

“Human souls have their own type of body language.” Heat rises to Castiel’s face as he admits he’s not as socially capable as he wants. “You held on to me, though. I knew you recognized me then.”

  
“You changed something, didn’t you? I felt something change.”

“The Enochian burned into your soul from my grace was a claim from Heaven. I changed it to say you are of your own free will,” Castiel explains as he starts to realize Dean might have heard him crying too. 

“Hm, I thought that claim was just to you.” Dean takes another swig of his beer before he opens his mouth to continue his questioning. Castiel stops him to ask his own questions. 

“You thought it was me who claimed you, and you weren’t upset?” Dean laughs and Castiel feels the need to wring his hands. Dean keeps laughing when Castiel really doesn’t understand what’s so funny. He usually never does, but at least Dean explains the joke to him right after.

Dean fiddles with his pole for a moment before he speaks, “Yeah, Cas. I didn’t mind. Kind of liked it, if you get what I’m saying.”

“I really don’t.” Another laugh and now Castiel turns his head away completely. Perhaps he should leave. 

“I suck at this, but uh, what you said before you left, the ‘wanting what you can’t have’ part, uh, Cas you know you can have that, right?” Castiel slowly turns his head back to blink dumbly at the ex-hunter. “Like, I know what you meant, and you’ve got it. You got me.”

“Dean, I’m sure you’ve misunderstood…”

“No, I didn’t,” Dean insists. “Honestly, it was very cliche. ‘I want what I can’t have’. That’s definitely from some chick-flick I can’t think of right now. Anyway, I know what you meant and now I need you to know what I mean. What you think you can’t have, you can.”

“I don’t think I understand,” Castiel says so quietly neither could really hear.

“I’m definitely not as straight as we thought I was. So basically, be my partner?”

“Wouldn’t it be boyfriend?” 

“I guess, but calling you my boyfriend doesn’t really fit. That’d be like if we started dating in high school or in my twenties, not knowing if we’d eventually break up or get married. You’re it for me. Unless you aren’t sure...” Dean’s insecurity creeps back into his words, but Castiel doesn’t bat an eye.

“In a way, we are already married,” Castiel explains. “My grace had branded your soul, but your soul had also branded my grace. It wasn’t one-sided.”

“Hm, so you’re my husband,” Dean nods understandingly and Castiel feels his head spin a little. This is nowhere close to how Castiel envisioned seeing Dean again. He hadn’t even entertained the thought of Dean reciprocating his feelings, and now Dean is claiming they’re married. Is this what Bobby and Missouri, and apparently Eileen, meant by Dean pulling his head out of his ass?

“You’re surprisingly calm about this,” Castiel notes wearily. 

Dean takes another slow drink of his beer, prompting Castiel to keep drinking his mostly forgotten beverage. “There’s a lot I’m going to have to get used to now. Being dead and all, seeing everyone again… you,” Dean explains. Castiel tilts his bottle out over the cooler and Dean clinks their drinks together. 

“To getting used to peace,” Castiel toasts softly, remembering the drink they had shared in the bunker after they made it out of purgatory for the second time. Dean’s smile widens and there’s something in his eyes that Castiel can’t quite put his finger on. It’s so very similar to the joy Dean once held the night he dragged Castiel to a brothel and they’d been kicked out—except it was _more_. Perhaps this was what Dean looked like happy before even hell. Castiel can’t stop staring. He did that; he made Dean smile like he’d never been to hell, never died, never fought God. 

“Have you seen everyone yet?” Castiel asks when the flurry of emotions in his chest becomes too much for both of them. How is it possible to be so teary-eyed and hold a casual conversation? It seems Dean is in a similar boat though, so Castiel won’t be hard on himself. No matter the circumstance, seeing Dean again was going to make him emotional. Thank Jack it’s joy, contentment, and hope he feels.

Dean lets out a quiet sigh, “Not yet. I haven’t seen my parents.” The underlying meaning is obvious to Castiel: Dean hasn’t seen his parents not because of his mom, but in fear of his father. 

“I reunited the two when Jack and I were first merging heavens.”

“You met my dad?” 

“Not exactly. I left before he could say anything,” Castiel says bitterly. Dean raises an eyebrow and Castiel can’t help but look away. 

“I guess I can’t blame you for disliking him,” Dean laughs. They leave it at that. 

The next hour passed just drinking, watching the water, and enjoying being next to each other, which just an hour before seemed impossible. Finally, Castiel’s pole jostles before the line starts moving. Castiel does as Dean had instructed, but he fumbles with how. Warm hands cover his own as defined arms bracket his own. Dean’s chest presses to his back, and soon he’s pulling and reeling in a fish with Dean’s help. 

The proud smile Dean wears is radiant and contagious despite the fish being rather small. It’s hard for the angel to wrap his head around why this human loves him, but who is he to argue. They release the fish as soon as Dean takes a quick picture of Castiel awkwardly holding it. His face is scrunched up in the polaroid picture with displeasure for the fish’s discomfort. He apologizes to the fish when he sets it free. 

“Hey, Cas,” Dean says when Castiel remains crouched on the edge. “We- uh, can we take things kind of slow?” Dean means to continue, to explain himself and all his fears, but Castiel looks up to him with such understanding that he doesn’t need to.

“Of course. We have plenty of time for everything, and patience just so happens to be a virtue of mine.” There’s a chuckle as Castiel speaks. Dean looks at him in awe.

“I love you.”

Both of them stop breathing. Castiel doesn’t need to breathe, he does it out of habit nowadays. Dean’s declaration stops Castiel from mimicking the action anyway. There’s a long pause while Castiel comprehends what the other had said while said other internally panics despite knowing his feelings are requited. Dean looks down at his boots, stuffing his hands in his pockets and willing his heart to slow down. 

“It just sort of slipped, but I do mean it,” Dean mutters to the ground. 

“I love you too.”

“Thank Jack,” Dean laughs dryly. The anxiety flooding his chest won’t go away and he’s starting to worry more if he’s making some mistake. He knows he loves Castiel, so why is he so nervous? Why can’t he just have one good thing?

Black dress shoes come into Dean’s sight and he finally looks up. Castiel’s stands just a foot away, personal space be damned. Strong hands find his shoulders and hold tightly. 

“We’ll go as slow as you need, Dean. We both have a lot of our own stuff to work through. You have forty years, plus the other forty you spent in hell, to work through. I’ve had millennia. Let’s work on ourselves above all else.”

“I’m sorry, Cas.”

“Dean Winchester, tell me when exactly you had any time to process, much less heal from, anything that had happened to you since you were four years old?” Castiel questions. Dean doesn’t need to answer and Castiel already knows Dean’s answer. It was a matter of Dean understanding his point. Castiel takes a confident step forward and presses his forehead to Dean’s. “This won’t be easy. Heaven can’t cure PTSD, but we have all the time we need and then much more to get better.”

“What would I do without you?” Dean scoffs, but he’s looking at Castiel with such raw emotion, eyes wet and threatening to spill. They’re in the same boat.

Castiel can’t help but say, “Impale yourself on a rebar.”

They laugh as they cry and cling to each other.

The road to recovery won’t be easy, hell, they’ll probably get tired of each other sometimes, but they’ll never stop loving each other. Castiel presses a hand to Dean’s chest. With Dean’s soul in his hand, he changes the Enochian for the second time. 

It roughly translates to, “ _The righteous man, who has saved the world more times than anyone can count, is that of his own free will, 70’s rock music, and Castiel, Angel of Thursdays and Leader of Heaven. May no one raise a hand against him, for though he can most definitely handle himself, they would be struck down by every person who has ever loved him. In essence, do not touch Castiel’s Husband._ ”

**Author's Note:**

> I might write more one-shots on how their relationship progresses as well as how they find their self-worth. As you may have noticed, they didn't even kiss. When I tell you these two are going to take it slow, I mean really, really slow. Dean has a lot of issues to sort out as well as learning to cope in healthy ways that don't hurt himself or Castiel. Honestly, it will be like they're committed to one another but not really together yet for a long while.  
> If you guys are interested in reading that, please let me know!


End file.
